


and when you're gone, who remembers your name? who keeps your flame? who tells your story?

by youareiron_andyouarestrong



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Gen, Legacies, Legends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 05:04:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9306518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youareiron_andyouarestrong/pseuds/youareiron_andyouarestrong
Summary: the Rogue One crew goes down into legend, and even scavengers and defectors have heard their names.





	

In the wake of the destruction of StarKiller, Finn gets a visitor. 

He gets a lot of visitors, honestly--BB-8, Poe, General Organa, Jessika, more pilots, various officials. They all stop by to see how he’s doing, how he’s feeling, how his back’s doing. He’s a little surprised by so many people are so concerned about his welfare and it warms something inside him, but after a while, it begins to get overwhelming. He wants to do the physical therapy the droids and medics insist on in  _ peace, _ not surrounded by an audience. 

The man sitting quietly in the medbay might not qualify, but still. He’s a stranger. 

He’s older than Finn, much older, maybe the same age as General Organa. Threads of silver shot through dark hair, a much battered pair of goggles on top. He has the not quite earthbound gaze of a pilot and his hands are in constant motion--absently fiddling with a small piece of mechanics, not really paying attention. He looks up when Finn enters and smiles suddenly, the look transforming his whole face; suddenly he looks as young as Finn. “Hello,” he says easily, as Finn hesitates in the doorway. “Don’t mind me, just wanted to see how you were doing. Princess--sorry,  _ General _ Organa mentioned your progress since StarKiller. You are doing excellently well.”

“Thank you,” says Finn uncertainly, still hesitating in the doorway. “She didn’t--um, mention you.”

The man shrugs lightly. “I’m not here often enough for her to mention me. My crew and I are just passing through.”

“Oh,” says Finn, coming in now, the man’s got no weapons that he can see. “Are you a pilot?”

The man smiles, faint, enormous dark eyes almost lit from within. “I’m  _ the _ pilot,” he says and Finn notices, for the first time, that he didn’t offer his hand to him immediately, like almost everyone else has upon meeting Finn. “Bodhi Rook,” says the pilot simply. “It’s nice to meet you, Finn.”

Everything in Finn’s head comes to a screeching halt. “The-- _ the  _ Bodhi Rook?” he chokes out. “The--the one with the crew who blew up the Death Star?”

The pilot-- _ Bodhi Rook _ \--blinks in surprise. “Well-- _ I  _ didn’t blow it up. I just stole the plans so that  _ other  _ people could blow it up. Me and a few others.” 

“A  _ few? _ ” says an indignant voice from behind them and Finn immediately spins around and another old man, such a strange sight, so many elderly, sweeps into the medbay, a long, gnarled staff held out in front of him. Another man, just as aged but  _ massive _ , comes in behind the blind one, a gun on his shoulder that makes Finn want to back up and also get a closer look. “A few of us--and the Force,” says the blind man and the enormous one behind him grunts. 

“A few fools and the Force,” he grouses and the blind man smiles fondly in the direction of his voice.

“Was it not with us always?” he asks and the bigger man simply rolls his eyes and casts an unimpressed look on Finn. 

“More strays, Rook?” he says, voice gnarled and rough from an accent thirty years out of common use.

“Hardly a  _ stray, _ ” says the blind man thoughtfully. “The Force loves this one--him and the young desert star.”

“Who--Rey?” asks Finn in bewilderment, and the blind man nods, contemplative. 

“Rey,” he echoes, almost tasting her name. “Rey, bringer of light. And you, Finn, breaker of storms. Bodhi wanted to meet you, one defector to another.”

Finn looks back at Bodhi, who smiles almost apologetically. “We traitors gotta stick together, yeah?” he asks, gentle and almost fond, if such a thing could be said of a man whose name Finn has only ever heard in the lowest of whispers. 

Finn nods, dazed at the reality of it-- _ the  _ Bodhi Rook. “They--they call you the Defector in--in the First Order,” he says. “When we have to listen to the exhortations every month that reminded us to stay loyal.”

Bodhi nods, unsurprised. “It used to be  _ the traitor, _ ” he says thoughtfully. “Not much has changed in thirty years.”

“No imagination,” says the huge man with the gun, profoundly unimpressed. 

“None needed for killing,” agrees the blind one and holds out one hand for Finn. “May I?”

Finn hesitates but takes his hand, and is then shocked by the strength of the grip. The blind man gently, but inexorably, tugs Finn forward, closer enough to see the clouded grey of his eyes. The blind man feels up the length of Finn’s arm, to his shoulder, his jaw, the touch somehow gentle and noninvasive. He feels for Finn’s features, the place where the scar from Ren’s lightsaber begins. “You are healing well,” says the blind man in satisfaction. “Soon you will join Master Skywalker and the desert star. The Force wills it.”

“Is--is that how the Force works?” asks Finn and the man with the gun rolls his eyes. 

“ _ No one  _ knows how the Force  _ works _ ,” he says irritably. “It just sounds portentous when a blind man says it.”

“Am I ever wrong?” asks the blind man and both the huge man and Bodhi Rook say at the same time,  _ “Yes,” _ one utterly exasperated, the other slightly apologetic.

The blind man harrumphs and Finn blinks, buffeted by this strange exchange. “The  _ Force  _ is never wrong,” he concedes and carefully withdraws his hand from Finn’s face. “Bodhi--the General wishes to speak to us before we get Cassian and Jyn.”

Bodhi sighs and gets to his feet. “I’m coming, Chirrut. And--Finn?”

Finn sits up straight, coming to attention automatically and Bodhi Rook looks at him with such compassion it  _ hurts.  _ “It’s alright to be afraid,” he says softly. “There’s no shame in that. What is important you decide what is more important--your fear or what is right.” He smiles again, such kindness. “But you don’t need  _ me  _ to tell you what you already know.”

Finn nods again, and then has to ask one more question. “Does it--does it ever get any easier?”

Bodhi gazes at him, everything Finn’s ever felt since leaving the First Order in his eyes. “No,” he admits softly, simply, “it never gets  _ easier-- _ you just get used to it.”

* * *

 

The woman before Rey is  _ tiny-- _ her head barely brushes past the top of Rey’s shoulder. But she’s got the most perfect upright, knife-blade posture Rey’s ever seen, even with her hair streaked with gray; her face is dainty and delicate and  _ ferocious, _ she doesn’t look in the least intimidated by the presence of Master Skywalker. Rey has the sudden conviction that as aged and as small as this woman is, she could fight the toughest thugs in Jakku and not give an inch. The man standing besides her is aged as well, beard and hair almost gone completely silver--but he too gives the impression of immense, hidden strength. 

Master Skywalker greets them both politely, even respectfully, and the woman tilts her head as if accepting this as her due, the man besides her clears his throat and bows in response to this. “Colonel Andor,” greets Skywalker, “and Captain Erso. Did you bring news from my sister?”

“She wants to know why it’s taking so long for you to come home,” says the woman bluntly, her accent is precise and crisp, old-fashioned to Rey’s ears. “And why Rey can’t complete her training with the rest of the Resistance.”

“A Jedi must have solitude to complete her training,” says Master Skywalker gently, seemingly unaffected by the older woman’s bluntness; she’s easily General Organa’s age. “Rey and I will be returning soon.”

“The First Order’s armies are massing,” says the older man, his voice urgent; Rey likes the sound of his voice, the accent warm and rich. “We have need of a Jedi Master.”

“My sister--” Master Skywalker begins to say but the older woman cuts him off. “ _ Your sister  _ just lost her husband,” she snaps, “at the hands of  _ your  _ nephew and  _ her  _ son. She’s running a resistance and half the Senate is  _ gone,  _ and she needs you now more than ever--”

“Jyn,” says the other man quietly, but with utter intent, and she snaps her mouth, glowering at Master Skywalker like she’d like to hit him over the head.

Master Skywalker looks unbearably weary now, but his politeness does not fade. “Captain Erso,” he says softly, “I appreciate this loyalty and defense of my sister--especially considering all the arguments the two of you had in the past--” the older woman,  _ Captain Erso  _ looks utterly disgruntled and the other man, Colonel Andor, Rey supposes, looks resigned, “and believe me, I am aware of the passage of time,” Master Skywalker says quietly. “But this cannot be rushed. Rey must be allowed to go at her own pace.” 

Captain Erso’s mouth tightens and she narrows a razor-edged look at Rey. “Do you know what’s at stake here, girl?”

“The fate of the galaxy,” Rey shoots back, refusing to be intimidated. “The fate of the Jedi.  _ I  _ know what’s at stake and so does Master Luke.” 

Captain Erso only looks marginally appeased by this; Colonol Andor steps in gracefully. “We understand that this takes time,” he says. “But that is something we are short of now.”

Captain Erso looks at Rey, raises her chin, a defiant challenge. “You any good with that stick?”

Rey takes her staff, the one she’s been modifying for the past few months and twists it sharply in the middle. It comes undone with a neat  _ snap  _ and Rey flicks the buttons on the sides of them.  Twin lightsabers, a bright, blinding aqua blue light up the air. 

“Chirrut would  _ love  _ that,” murmurs Colonel Andor and Captain Erso actually  _ grins,  _ wide and fierce, slightly terrifying. 

“He would,” she agrees, not taking her eyes off Rey’s lightsabers, her hand going automatically to something hanging around her neck, a small, sharp brightness. “When you’ve decided you’re done playing Jedi, we could use you in the Pathfinders.” 

Without another word, Captain Erso turns and goes, back straight, head high, like she expects the world to bend before her. Colonel Andor sighs once and bows again, ever so slightly, to Rey and Master Luke. “Come to Yavin soon,” he says. “We’ll be waiting.” He turns and goes as well, following Captain Erso, an almost imperceptible limp to his gait. 

Rey watches them go, puzzled, wondering at the pair of them, old and weathered and gray, but still blazing with life. “Who were they?” she asks Master Luke curiously later, as rain pours down outside their shelter. “How do you know them?”

Master Luke glances at her, one eyebrow raised ever so slightly, and replies, “They’re the Rogue One crew. The ones who stole the Death Star plans.”

Rey stares at him, eyes going wide and wider still. “They’re-- _ that’s Rogue One? _ ”

“Indeed,” says Master Luke, a tiny smile tugging at his mouth. “At least some of them. So you  _ do  _ know about them.”

“I used to pretend I was a member of Rogue One,” says Rey, dazed with wonderment. “When I was a little girl. I had an old helmet and used to pretend I was flying on Scarif.” 

“Did you?” says Master Luke softly, smiling faintly. 

Rey nods earnestly, remembering. “I found some old Imperial stuff--files? Or vids, I’m not sure--they told about a man with a staff, he wasn’t a Jedi, but he fought like one and that’s where I got the idea to for mine--”

“Chirrut,” says Master Luke. “Chirrut Îmwe was one of my best teachers.”

“And Jyn Erso,” Rey goes on, still lost in wonder, “They say she was with--with Solo, in the Pathfinders. And she and Cassian Andor--”

“Her husband,” Master Luke says, “the man with her today.”

“Did she and General Organa not  _ like  _ each other?” Rey asks and Master Luke actually  _ grins,  _ like a little boy remembering a bad joke. 

“They had some--philosophical differences,” he says mildly, though that troublemaking grin is still lingering on his face. “And to be fair, they were devoted to entirely different ideals within the Rebellion--but Captain Erso always had my sister’s back in a fight, no matter how much they argued, and for that, I respected her enormously.” 

Rey pulls her knees to her chest, rests her chin on them. “She’s--she’s kind of--”

“Intimidating?” offers Master Luke, but Rey shakes her head. 

“I wanted to be her,” she says softly, “when I was little. I wanted to be brave, like her and Rogue One.”

“I could think of no better role model,” says Master Luke and Rey smiles, bright and wondering, and thinks of legends as she trains. 


End file.
